In the Fires of Hell
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: At the end of Coven, Fiona finds herself trapped in a cabin with her Axeman, waking each day to the realization of her eternal torture. But they will one day find their peace through the power of their love.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: For any of you who haven't read any of my other stories, I am a fixer. I often write fic to create happy endings for characters I love. So that's what I'm doing here. It'll take a while, but they'll get there :) This story begins in the last moment we see Fiona and the Axeman in the finale of Coven and continues from there.

 **In the Fires of Hell**

Fiona clutched at her lover with desperation as he held her in his arms. She saw Papa Legba in the doorway and forced herself to close her eyes, willing the pounding of her heart to drown out the sound of his laughter.

"What am I doing here?" she whispered, more to herself than anything else.

"You're in hell, baby doll. Funny, isn't it? My heaven is your hell. I guess that's what happens after all those years of my hell, watching you from afar and getting left behind as you soared," Joe replied, swaying their bodies to the silent music that always played in his head.

Fiona didn't respond. She just clung to him tighter. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do. For all eternity, she'd be stuck in this shithole of a cabin, all alone and bored out of her mind.

Joe turned his head to press soft kisses to her hair and neck. "Don't worry. I got you."

She let out a slow breath, feeling her body relax in his arms. She always felt a calm around him, something that had always felt unnatural to her. Fiona Goode was not a woman who relaxed easily. Even when her mind was at ease, her body and soul—or lack thereof—had felt restless. And when her body was still, her mind would wander. But not with her Axeman. He brought her an unfamiliar contentment. Perhaps it was because he'd known her for her whole life that he knew her better than anyone ever had before. Or perhaps it was just because he was so damn sexy, and he loved her as an equal. Joe didn't want anything from her other than simply her. No one had ever wanted Fiona for herself before. It was new and comforting.

"Come on, baby. Let me bring you a little heaven," he murmured in her ear.

Fiona laughed softly. "I just got out of bed."

He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. "I didn't say we had to go back to bed."

She bit her bottom lip, trying not to smile. "You still smell like fish," she challenged.

A spark of idea formed in his expression. "I guess you'll have to clean me up." Joe took her hand and led her into the bathroom.

Fiona half expected to see a corpse bleeding out in the bathtub when they arrived, but was pleasantly surprised to find a large clawfoot tub with a standing shower in pristine clean condition. Joe started the shower before unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes hungrily fixated on her.

"Care to help me, baby?" he asked, the velvety sound of his voice making her body begin to buzz with anticipation. Every second he spent seducing her took her further away from the literal hell she was tapped in.

She smiled slowly. "I think you're doin' just fine yourself. Keep going."

Joe chuckled. She never failed to surprise him. She wanted him to give her a show, and he always did whatever his beautiful flower wanted.

Fiona watched as he slowly disrobed. His beige shirt came off first. Her heart skipped a beat as he went from carefully unbuttoning to harshly jerking the tails of the shirt from his pants. He bent down to untie his sturdy boots. Fiona started imagining the kinds of manly, rough things he did outside in those boots. He stood back up and looked at her from beneath his brow as he undid his belt buckle and unzipped his fly, letting the trousers fall to the floor. The metal sounded on the wooden floor and her chest constricted with excitement.

"Anytime you wanna jump in…" he suggested quietly.

Without a word, Fiona made her way to him, pulling the cotton undershirt up and over his head. Her knuckles brushed his body, the strong and sturdy muscles rippling at her soft touch. He lifted his arms so she could remove his shirt. As soon as it was off, he started undressing her as well, but she stopped him. "You first, mister," she whispered. With that, she pulled his shorts down, letting them fall the floor with the rest of his clothes. She guided him toward the steaming shower.

He got underneath the hot water and tentatively moved to get shower curtain. Fiona every so subtly shook her head, so he stopped. Joe began to wash himself as she watched. Her eyes were fixated on him, her smile growing with each move he made. He felt his arousal grow, knowing that they would soon be getting very dirty as soon as she deemed him sufficiently clean.

Just when he began to feel an ache in his abdomen, he saw his Fiona lean back against the wall and begin to touch herself through her black silk nightgown.


	2. Chapter 2

Joe froze, watching her intently. After a few moments, her hand stopped. He looked up and their eyes locked. Neither of them moved. They stared at one another, the electric chemistry between them a palpable spark.

He finally reached his hand out to her. She crossed the bathroom toward him in two steps, careful not to slip on the water that had splashed out of the tub. He took her hands to help her join him in the shower. She hadn't even bothered to remove her nightgown. The black silk clung to her perfectly sculpted body as it got wet from the spray. Instantly, his mouth was on hers, devouring her lips. His big, strong hands roamed her waist, clawing at the fabric in his way.

Fiona moaned in appreciation. If she had waited one more second to be enveloped in his loving embrace, she might have died again. That thought made her pause.

Joe felt her tense up. He pulled away slightly. "What's 'a matter, baby?"

But Fiona didn't want to talk. She didn't want to think. She reached between them and took his growing erection in her hand. His groan made her smile again, and she took his mouth back to her. She tasted his tongue with her own and realized that, dead as they were, nothing and no one had ever made her feel so alive.

He became frustrated with the lack of contact he was getting with her skin. The silk was stuck to her, too difficult to pull away. So instead, he ripped it off her. The nightgown fell into the bathtub and plugged up the drain. The water began to fill, quickly reaching their ankles.

Rather than worry about slipping, Joe gently pushed Fiona down to her knees. He had intended for her to lie down in the bathtub, but instead, she took him first in hand and then in her mouth. He was thankful that he could reach out for the wall to steady himself. He used his free hand to tangle his fingers in her wet, golden hair. For a fleeting moment, he realized that this was her hair and not that wig she'd been wearing during their last few times together before their deaths. If he wasn't in heaven before, he was now.

Fiona loved the power she had over him. She always loved having power of every man she encountered. But until Joe, she'd always felt conflicted about blowing someone. It was something that gave the recipient such pleasure, for which she got nothing in return. Yes, it was power, but it was also such a chore. Before Joe, she had never been with a man whose simple pleasure gave her pleasure in and of itself. She got a high from knowing that she and she alone could conquer him so completely. He belonged to her alone, and she to him. The dull ache in her abdomen constricted further.

She pulled him down to her. "I need you," she moaned.

As usual, he gave in to her desires. In death, in life, and in death once again, he wanted nothing more than to be able to give her everything she wanted and needed. "Oh, baby," he groaned as he entered her. Soft and warm, so unlike the rest of her. But exciting and electric like always.

The water sloshed around them in the bath as they moved in their rhythm. The shower was still on, spraying Joe's back. Fiona had to close her eyes to keep from constantly blinking the water away. He didn't mind. He loved to lock eyes with her when they made love, but he was just as happy to watch her as she completely lost herself to him. The first time, she had made every lightbulb in his dingy apartment explode with the power of her climax. And even now, despite not having her magic in this place, the light seemed to flicker as she got close. He sped up, taking her harder and deeper. The water splashed over the sides of the tub and onto the floor.

"Yes, oh god…" she whispered breathlessly, spurring him on. Her back was starting to feel the strain from lying awkwardly in the bathtub, but she couldn't possibly bring herself to care the slightest bit. Nothing in the universe could ruin what unearthly pleasures she was experiencing in that moment. The pressure was building within her. She lifted her knees, locking her ankles around his waist. She was close…so close…

Joe's release came quicker than he'd been expecting, but he kept thrusting so she could finish. He knew her body better than he knew his own, and he'd give her what she needed. Her back arched up. And something entirely unexpected happened.

The shower stopped. The water was still running, but it had frozen in space, unmoving, as though paused in time. The puddles on the bathroom floor trembled and rose up. The water filling the tub floated up as well, filling the room with shimmering, shapeless droplets.

As Fiona's body shuddered and trembled, constricting around him, the water all came crashing down everywhere. In seconds, everything had gone from normal to hovering around them to raining back down.

Joe was thoroughly shaken. He removed himself from her, despite how much he loved to hold her through her aftershocks. He reached over to turn off the shower before leaning back on his knees, staring at her.

Fiona was still recovering and hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. For all she knew, this was her first morning in her personal hell, and she had no illusions of expectations for that.

They were silent except for their labored breathing and the drip drop of water from their wet hair falling into the bathtub.


	3. Chapter 3

"What the hell was that?" Joe asked in a quiet, strained voice.

The edges of Fiona's mouth curled upward. "I think we could call it many things, but 'great sex' is the first that comes to my mind."

A puff of air escaped his lips and he cast his gaze downward for a fraction of a second as she expressed her flattery. He returned his focus to her. "No, the water," he clarified.

She furrowed her brow. "I know we splashed around a little, but that's really just par for the course when you do something like this," she replied, gesturing to their naked bodies in the bathtub.

Joe gaped at her, unsure whether she was being coy or just oblivious. "All the water just rose up in the air and poured down. I know you were a little preoccupied with your orgasm, but did you really not notice?"

Now it was Fiona's turn to be confused. "That's impossible. I…I can't…I don't have any power here," she stammered. Her voice got quiet and distant as she tried to comprehend what he was telling her. She looked up at him with fear in her eyes. "All my life, I've been able to feel my power. I felt it when it was growing all those years ago, and I felt it as it started to fade." She swallowed hard. "I don't feel it now."

Joe knew it did no good to sit in the tub together as they tried to figure this out. He stood and offered his hand to help her up. Everything in the entire room was soaking wet. There were extra towels in the linen closet in the hall, and he grabbed a few as he led her out to the bedroom. "Here, dry off. Don't catch a chill," he said gently, hand her a towel. Obviously it wouldn't matter if she caught a chill. They were dead. What was a cold going to do? But the sentiment was still habit for him. Years of chivalry toward beautiful women hadn't faded away.

She wrapped one towel around her body and sat down on the edge of the bed. She watched him as he dried himself and found some clean shorts to put on. Her eyes were glazed over. There was too much swirling around her mind, too much competing to be understood. Through the haze, Fiona figured out where to start in her quest for comprehension. She looked up at him, this time focused. "This morning, when I found myself here, you said something. That I…that we do this every day? I always wake up not knowing where I am?"

Joe nodded.

"How long have we been here?"

He just shrugged. "I've lost track. A few weeks, at least. Maybe a month or so."

"And I assume this wasn't the first time we've…"

He turned and gave her that signature smirk of his. "No, babydoll. I make love to you every day. This is my heaven, after all."

"But this is the first time anything like that has happened?"

"This is the first time I've seen anything resembling magic here." He paused for a moment to sit down beside her. He hadn't yet bothered to put on a shirt or a proper pair of pants, but he didn't think she would mind. "I've missed this though."

"I wouldn't know. I just got here. As far as I can tell, anyway." She rested her head on his shoulder.

He turned to press a kiss to her wet hair. "I know. And that's something of a drag for both of us. But the magic. I've missed your magic. You're more yourself with it."

"It was the only thing that mattered to me for my whole life."

Joe didn't know what to say to that. Fiona knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear, but unless she was trying to manipulate him, she never bothered saying anything just because he did or didn't want to hear it, nor had she worried about it with anyone else in her life. What made him think he was special? But even in her own mind, Fiona knew that was a lie. He was special. She ended up in hell with him. Not with anyone else. Just him. She couldn't help but think that if Papa Legba had truly wanted to punish her, he wouldn't have let her spend eternity with the only man she had ever really loved, no matter what the circumstances.

Fiona fell back onto the bed, not caring that she was getting the sheets all wet from her hair. She reached her hand over to him and tapped his hip. "Do you have your axe here?"

He turned to smirk at her. "Which one?"

"The instrument," she replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I got it."

"Of course. It's your heaven."

"You want me to play you something?"

She merely nodded, but he got the message. He got up and made his way to where he had last left his saxophone. It took him a moment to put it all together, but soon enough the familiar tones filled the room.

Fiona closed her eyes and focused on the music. But a small thought, more filled with hope than actual belief, crept into her mind. He had missed her magic. And this was his heaven. He couldn't truly be in heaven if she didn't have her magic. So maybe that would mean his heaven would depend on her happiness. She smiled as his jazz took over her senses.


	4. Chapter 4

As he played, she started become restless. She stood up, tightening the towel around her body, and started wandering around the cabin. It was small and simple, but now that she was free from her former frenzied cloud of confusion, she was significantly less repulsed by it. Not to say that she liked it. But it was…well, not acceptable, but certainly not as bad as she'd first thought.

The bed was big and comfortable. The rest of the bedroom was sparse; just a wardrobe in the corner by the window and a vanity across the room, presumably for her. She'd already seen the bathroom. It was better than she would have expected. If this was supposed to be Joe's grandfather's cabin, it shouldn't have had running water. Maybe that modern improvement was for her too. A small smile played on Fiona's lips as she walked into the kitchen.

The large scrubbed wood table dominated the room. The rest of the room was similarly rough and used, but it was much cleaner than that cesspool she had tolerated at Joe's apartment. Clean was definitely an improvement.

As she stared at the kitchen sink, not really focusing her eyes in any particular way, the thought crossed her mind—why was she here? Was this punishment? Had Papa put her here as a cruel joke? She'd once asked to have one more great love affair, and she'd gotten it. She'd had many others in the past, so why was she stuck here in a piece of shit cabin with the Axeman? As far as she could tell, he had never done enough to earn his own personal heaven with her for all eternity. He certainly did love her; she didn't doubt that. But was that really enough to warrant her eternal damnation?

A hand touched her shoulder. She turned quickly to find Joe behind her.

"Sorry to scare you," he apologized quietly.

Fiona hadn't even realized the music had stopped. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Everything alright?"

She wasn't sure how to answer that question. She wasn't sure she wanted to answer that question at all. Her impulse was to silence him with a fiery kiss, but she restrained herself. She wasn't ready to experiment with their lovemaking again so quickly. So instead, she deflected. "What do we do all day? Just lie around in between orgasms?"

He chuckled. "Well, it depends on the day. Sometimes you wake up and you're a little more…obstinate."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, today you clocked me pretty good."

"And you hit me right back," she interjected.

"I don't always do that," he replied, not a hint of humor in his voice.

She narrowed her eyes at him. She didn't need him to do her any favors.

He continued, "So depending on my mood when you get up and how susceptible you are to what I tell you, sometimes we spend hours yelling. And sometimes you annoy me enough that I leave to go fishing and just leave you here. You can't leave, so I don't know what you do."

"You just leave me here? I'm sure I break things over your head when you get back." Even if she didn't remember him doing it, she could still be irritated with it.

"You have, actually." His hand absent-mindedly went up to the back of his head.

Fiona grinned. Nice to know that even in the afterlife with no magic, she was still herself. "And this is heaven for you?"

His mouth spread into his trademark sexy smile. "Today is." He reached out and wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"I'm sorry you have to explain this every single day, though."

He shrugged. "You don't usually ask this many questions."

"Which brings me back to my first question: what the hell do we do all day?"

"Sometimes we go on a walk. I've tried to take you fishing with me. Though you don't like that too much. I think you just like leaving the cabin."

"So I can leave?" She rested her hands on his arms, leaning back slightly in the excitement of that possibility.

He didn't like dashing her hopes, but he'd done it many times already, each day they went through different versions of the same charade. "Not without me," he explained. "Believe me, you've tried. Apparently you've thrown things at the windows, but they won't break. So I guess even though you don't have magic, it's here."

Fiona frowned, scanning the room. Her brow furrowed as she closed her eyes.

"What?"

She pushed away from him gently, extricating herself from his arms. "I'm trying to feel it. Something. Anything."

"And?"

She opened her eyes. "Nothing." Her heart constricted in her chest at that realization. She'd never been so utterly powerless. And even worse, she had no answers. She lacked her magic and she lacked information. But Fiona Goode had never been one to be outwitted by anyone, human or otherwise. She would find a way to figure out what she needed.


	5. Chapter 5

"How 'bout I make you somethin' to eat, hmm?" Joe suggested, trying the next thing on his list to distract her distress.

Fiona's eyes narrowed. "What kind of food do you have?"

"Well I just caught some catfish that I can fry up."

She made a noise and a face to express her disgust.

"There's a loaf of bread around here somewhere. And we've got your typical meal, too," he added with a small smirk.

"My typical meal?" she asked dubiously.

"Bourbon and cigarettes."

Fiona nodded and sat down at the kitchen table. Joe moved around the kitchen, taking his time collecting an ashtray, matches, a carton of Marlboro Lights, a bottle of Maker's Mark, and a pair of sturdy glasses. He put everything in front of her and allowed her to take what she wanted.

After pouring a large amount of bourbon and lighting her cigarette, she stood up and walked back into the bedroom. She exhaled a puff of smoke and took a big gulp as she moved.

Joe stayed in the kitchen, leaning back in his chair and watched her through the doorway. His eyes were trained on her body as she put the bourbon on the vanity table and let the towel still around her body fall to the floor. She took another drag off the cigarette as she made her way to the wardrobe. Her legs flexed as she examined what was available for her to wear. He couldn't see her face, but he could guess she was smiling. Everything she could want was in that wardrobe for her. He made sure of it. She loved wearing fancy things, and he loved seeing her in them.

Fiona held the cigarette tightly in her lips as she put on the black lacy bra and panty set. She then held the cigarette away so it wouldn't burn the black silk slip she put on next. The cigarette had to go back into her mouth as she stepped into the dress she had chosen. After slipping on a gorgeous pair of Louboutins, Fiona closed the wardrobe doors and walked back into the kitchen.

"Zip me," she requested, her voice muffled by the cigarette. She tapped it against the ashtray before turning her back to Joe so he could do up her tight black dress. He did so after standing up, and pressed a sustained kiss to the nape of her neck. Her hair was almost dry by now, but messy and slightly frizzy. He loved it.

Fiona dashed back into the bedroom to get her bourbon, fluffing her hair in the mirror before returning. "Alright, now what?"

"I'm going to put on some clothes and cook up those catfish. You don't have to eat it, but you loved it last week when I made it for you," Joe told her.

"Is that so?"

He nodded. It was a complete lie. He had yet to get her to eat anything solid, least of all catfish. But she didn't know that.

She rolled her eyes and sat down at the table to finish her smoke.

"You better be nice to me and do what I say. You never know what might happen otherwise." His tone was lighthearted but his threat was entirely serious, and she knew it.

Fiona didn't say anything as he started cleaning the enormous, disgusting fish. He did it on the table right in front of her, fish blood spilling everywhere. She watched him skin and fillet the two giant catfish, calmly smoking the rest of her cigarette and sipping her bourbon.

"This doesn't bother you?" he asked, wiping some splattered fish guts off his hands.

She shrugged. "I've seen you do worse."

He grinned. "And you liked it."

Fiona tipped her head back to laugh. That was very true. She had liked watching him slaughter her enemies.

As he started to fry the fillets in butter, she let her mind wander. Was this really what her existence had been reduced to? It had only been half a day, and she was bored out of her mind. He might have liked having her there, but she hated it. Maybe that was why she woke up each day with no memory of anything; her own mind was protecting her from enduing this literal hell.

She shook her head to herself. All this conjecturing was doing no good. She needed to experiment for herself. And, if possible, she needed Papa Legba to come back so she could ask him what the point of all this was. She was the goddamn Supreme. Sure, she hadn't been the best Supreme, but all that power had to count for something! Soul or no soul, she deserved better than this.

"You know, sometimes you actually talk to me," Joe commented over the sizzling of the frying pan.

"And what do I talk about?"

"Yourself, mostly."

"I can't say I'm surprised," she replied bitterly. She took one last drag before stamping the cigarette out in the ashtray. "So what have I told you about me?"

He chuckled. "Not as much as I would have liked."

"What could you possibly want to know?" she asked skeptically.

Joe continued to laugh. "You do this every time. Deflect, deflect, deflect." He took the frying pan off the stove and walked over to where she sat, leaning in close to her. "And I gotta say, it's getting kinda old," he whispered.

She rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes. As she breathed in his scent, her nose was assaulted with a putrid smell. "God!" She pushed him away. "You smell like fish again!"

"Get used to it!" he growled.

Fiona pushed her chair back and got up, moving away from him. She eyed him up and down, considering something for a moment, then turned on her heel and went back into the bedroom. Her shoes made a dull thump on the wood floor until she let herself fall backwards onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling like an angry teenager. This was what her existence had been reduced to. She was once the most powerful woman in the world. And now she was nothing.

It was several long, quiet minutes before Joe joined her. He paused by the bedside table. "More bourbon, whenever you want it." He walked away back to the kitchen.

She sat up, confused. After the useless fit she'd thrown, he still came to refill her drink. Maybe it was just polite or gentlemanly or some shit like that. But Fiona wasn't used to that kind of kindness. It was a simple gesture, just enough to show that he respected her need for space but was still concerned with what she might want or need.

Slowly, she got up and took her bourbon back to the kitchen. Interestingly, the blood and guts and catfish parts were all gone, as though there had never been a mess at all. Fiona sat down at the end of the table, right next to where he was eating his fried fish. She did her best to not react to the smell. Though the disgusting stench was mostly gone, leaving the mouth-watering scent of melted butter and salt.

"What do you want to know about me?" she asked softly.

"Everything."

She regarded him curiously, but he didn't look back at her. He just kept his eyes on his plate.

"Well, you know most of my childhood. You were there for that. After I was named Supreme, I got the hell out of New Orleans as fast as I could. I spent a lot of time in Europe, where I got very drunk and very stupid, very quickly."

Now he did turn to her. "Oh?" he asked with great interest.

Fiona nodded. "I was married for the first time less than a year after I ascended to the Supremacy. He was Italian. Angelo Galeotti. His older brother was Giorgio Armani's lover, and I stayed with the family so I could get pampered in designer clothes. I was something of a muse for Giorgio in his early days of designing for women. But Angelo, I found him extremely dull."

"Was he Cordelia's father?"

"Oh god, no. He didn't last more than another year or so after we got married."

"Divorce?"

She smirked. "No, I've never been divorced. All three of my husbands died. Angelo choked on some spaghetti and suffocated. It's such a pity I was out with Giorgio at the time." Fiona waved her hand lazily in the air.

The look on Joe's face was one of immense pride, and Fiona loved it.

"After Milan, I moved to New York for a few years. Then I was in France for quite a long time. That was when I got pregnant. I married him, though I guess it was just because I didn't want my baby out of wedlock. Gilles Durand. He owned a hotel in Nice. But I absolutely hated him when I was sober."

"But you stayed. And you had the baby."

She cast her gaze downward, a very slight smile playing on her lips. "Yes, I did." She looked back up, meeting his eyes. "I certainly didn't have to. But when I felt her growing inside of me, I felt more powerful than ever before. She gave me more than I ever imagined. After I gave birth, I looked out onto the sparkling, blue water, and I named her Cordelia, jewel of the sea."

Joe smiled. "Cordelia Durand. Nice name."

"No, Cordelia Goode. She was born of the Supreme, and I was gonna make damn sure the world knew she was mine."

"What about her father?"

"His opinion was unimportant. And he knew well enough that if he wanted to stay with me, he'd do what I wanted. And I wanted to take Cordelia back to the States and Gilles wanted us to stay in France with him. But then he fell down a flight of stairs and broke his neck. At least that's what the official report said. There were no witnesses. The baby and I were visiting Princess Grace in Monaco at the time."

"And what became of husband number three?"

Fiona averted her eyes. "He bled out after his throat was slit by someone trying to rob our house."

The mood had changed, and Joe wasn't sure why. It was clear that she wasn't going to say any more on the subject. He'd be a fool to push her now. But he figured he'd do something else. He glanced out the window and noticed that the sun was hanging low in the sky. It would be setting very soon. He stood up from the table and gently took her arm. "Come on. Let's go fishing."

"What!?"

"You heard me. You wanna get out of this cabin? You come with me. We're going night fishing."


	6. Chapter 6

Fiona followed her Axeman outside, not bothering to change her clothes or even her shoes. He wanted her to come fishing in the dark, it was his own fault if anything happened to her. But her annoyance at him melted way as she gazed out onto the expanse in front of them. The sun was setting behind a hill on the far side of the lake. She took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill her up. Fiona was not a lover of the outdoors, but it sure beat being cooped up inside of a tiny, disgusting, rustic cabin for all eternity.

Joe walked right past her toward the lake with all his fishing gear. She paused a moment before following him. Her high heels wobbled on the dirt path. She had to pay very close attention to where she was walking in the dimming twilight. When she thought she was getting close, she looked up to find a small rowboat where Joe was loading everything in. "Jesus Christ," she muttered. "You've gotta be kidding me!"

"Quit whining. It's unattractive."

"I don't really give a shit," she mumbled to herself.

He took her arm and helped her step into the boat before pushing it off and rowing toward the middle of the lake.

"So what, I just watch you fish until you take me back to dry land?" she sneered.

"Keep quiet. You'll scare the fish off," he scolded. He baited his hook and cast his line toward the shallows where catfish like to hunt in the evenings.

"Is it just catfish?" she asked.

"Yep. That's all we got here. I used to catch some bass out here with my granddaddy when I was a boy, but now we just got catfish," he told her. A small smile formed on his features as he recalled back to his youth.

"Well they're awful," she replied caustically.

He looked over at her with an odd look. "You really have to be a nasty bitch, don't you? You just can't help making sure that you and everyone else is as miserable as can be."

Fiona just shrugged and looked away, crossing her arms at her chest.

"Jesus. I try to give you something to do, keep you from gettin' too stir-crazy inside all day, and this is the kind of bullshit you pull?" He sighed and recast his line. "I wonder why I bother sometimes."

"You're the one keeping me here. I certainly didn't want to get stuck with _you_ of all people. I'd rather die again than be out on this goddamn lake!" she shouted.

"What did I tell you about being quiet? You're scaring the fish!" he growled back. In the midst of his frustration with her, he slammed his rod and reel down in the boat and scooted over to the bench where she sat as ladylike as she could manage. Joe grabbed her neck in one hand. "I wonder what would happen if I drowned you right here."

"Go right ahead," she spat.

But Joe made the mistake of looking in her eyes. Those cold, dark, mesmerizing eyes. They were alive with the fire of her anger. He never could resist her fire. So instead of snapping her neck and throwing her in the lake, like he'd planned, he yanked her toward him and forced his mouth on hers.

Fiona tried to resist. She often did. But within moments, she melted into his searing kiss. His hand relaxed its grip on her neck, caressing her skin. Her arms moved around him, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Joe leaned back, pulling her on top of him in between the plank benches. Fiona lost her grip on her shoes and they clunked off her feet onto the wooden bottom of the boat. She was now glad she hadn't changed, as his hand rubbed her bare thigh, inching up under her dress. His fingers pushed the silk and lace aside to find her center, stroking her. She pushed away from his kiss to gasp at his touch. He pulled her back, devouring her mouth with his tongue as his fingers did similar things between her legs. She moaned into him, unconcerned with the way her heart pounded in her chest from not being able to get enough air into her lungs. Her body jerked and shuddered as he brought her to her first climax. Fiona knew him well by now, and she knew that the first certainly would not be the last.

Once she regained control of her body, Fiona sat up, hiking her dress up to her waist so she could adequately straddle him. She moved away just enough to be able to free him from his pants. She stroked him a few times, enjoying the moans and groans of appreciation that fell from his lips. His talented, delicious lips. She silenced him with another kiss. As she did, he guided himself into her. Fiona bit down on his bottom lip at the sensation of him filling her completely.

As she moved up and down on him, he massaged her breasts through her dress, somewhat frustrated that he couldn't remove the layers off her skin. But he'd ripped clothing off her once already that day, and he reminded himself that he would get to have her fully and completely once they returned home.

Fiona became consumed with the sensations he was creating within her once again. Her movements went from being even and measured to becoming increasingly frenzied and wild. But the more she moved, the more the boat rocked. Joe tried to grab ahold of her, but he couldn't catch her. He never could tame her, he knew, and he didn't really want do.

Sure enough, the rocking started to tip the vessel. Fiona didn't even notice as the small rowboat capsized and flew from beneath them.

But they didn't fall in. Joe's body rested on a cushion of air, as stable as any solid surface. Fiona leaned into him. Her toes dangled inches from the water. They locked eyes and she smiled. His eyes were full of fear and confusion. She threw her head back and laughed. She could tell that he was close to completion, as was she. With a few more thrusts, she collapsed onto him, breathing heavily as he spilled into her with a few jerks of his pelvis.


	7. Chapter 7

Fiona regained control over her breathing enough to be able to cross her arms on top of his chest, propping up her chin just enough so that she could look at him. She smiled a dark and satisfied grin.

Joe didn't know what to make of the situation. He was floating about ten inches above the still bed of the lake. Unlike when they'd made love in the shower, this magic didn't seem to go away as soon as Fiona had completed her climax. His hands were still on her hips, and he was still inside her. He didn't dare move a muscle. He just watched her, waiting for that evil grin of hers to change into something else.

This time, perhaps because she'd been expecting it, Fiona could feel what was happening. It was faint, but she could sense the subtle tendrils of power that kept them afloat. And because she could feel it, she held on tight to that small semblance of power.

"What're we doin', baby?" he murmured.

Her brow furrowed slightly as her smile faltered. "I don't want it to end yet."

"You're doing this?"

She nodded. After another moment, she sighed. "I'll try to get the boat back."

Fiona closed her eyes and grasped desperately at everything she could, summoning the weak magic to bend to her will. Eventually, however, the rowboat drifted back to them, righted itself in the water, and appeared beneath them. Their bodies were deposited gently back where they had started.

Reluctantly, Fiona extricated herself from Joe, pulling her dress down over her body and purposefully avoiding his gaze. He just stared at her. He did sit up and fix himself back in his trousers, but his focus was completely on her. Joe searched for any indication that she was going to explain. It didn't look like she was going to. He rowed them back to shore in silence.

When they returned to the pebble-filled beach down the path from the cabin, Joe tied up the boat before turning to help Fiona. She was back in those crazy shoes, so her balance was off. Add to that the fact that darkness had come over the lake while they had been busy floating mid-coitus. He assumed that was why she seemed wobbly. She was probably exhausted, too.

Fiona was exhausted, though she didn't want him to know the real reason. He had seen her weak and helpless during their mortal time on earth, and she'd had quite enough of that. She didn't want him to see her like that again, not in death. She wasn't sick here. She had her hair and her strength, if not her magic. This small feat of witchcraft had completely drained her. Fiona was seeing spots in front of her eyes. Regardless of her shoes, she couldn't find her footing. And before she knew it, everything was gone.

She had lost consciousness and fallen like a stone. Thankfully, Joe had been close enough to catch her. He called her name a few times and got no response. He picked her up and carried her back into the cabin.

After depositing her on the bed, he lit a lamp. He paused, studying her features. "What are you up to?" he muttered, wondering aloud. In all the time they'd been in this afterlife of sorts, he'd never experienced anything with her like the events of this day. Not once, but twice she'd created some sort of magic. The first time she hadn't even realized it, but the second time…she knew what she was doing. She had her magic. Somehow, she had her magic. He didn't know how, but he knew this would change things between them. It was unclear to the Axeman whether or not this change would be for the better.

He removed his fishing clothes and got into their bed, trying to make her as comfortable as he could. With her beside him, he was somehow able to calm his curious mind enough to fall asleep.

Joe was awoken at first light by a blood-curdling scream.


	8. Chapter 8

Fiona opened her eyes and immediately felt an immense amount of pain. She didn't know where she was, what was happening, or what was causing these excruciating feelings.

Joe was startled awake next to her and began mildly panicking. "What is it? Baby, what's wrong?!"

She saw him lying in bed next to her. A bed she didn't recognize. She had stopped screaming and was now just whimpering. She leaned into him ever so slightly.

He took her in his arms and held her close, soothingly stroking her hair.

"Where are we?" she whispered.

"In my cabin. In…I guess we could call it the afterlife. Whatever that means." Joe knew she had awoken with no memories, just like always. He'd explain further if she asked. But he'd learned to not give any more detail without request.

"Why does it hurt?"

He frowned. "What hurts?"

She took a deep, shaky breath, letting it out slowly. She shut her eyes tight in an attempt to isolate the source of her anguish. "I'm not sure. It's everywhere but nowhere."

"If it helps at all, we've been here for a while, and you wake up every day not remembering. But yesterday you used magic for the first time," Joe told her, hoping an explanation would spark something in her, perhaps give her a clue as to what was going on. She'd certainly never woken up in pain before.

Something clicked inside Fiona's mind. "My magic…" She spoke to herself more than anything else. She was still trying to process it. It was as though the answer were hidden in plain sight, like a word at the tip of her tongue she couldn't seem to find. The pain was distracting. It felt like she was burning from the inside out. She couldn't seem to focus on anything else. "It's too hot," she mumbled.

"What do you need?" he asked, prepared to get her whatever she needed.

"Water."

"You need something to drink?"

Fiona shook her head. "No. Water." She clenched her fists, raising on hand to her mouth to bite on so she wouldn't scream aloud.

Joe wasn't sure if it was what she meant, but he got out of bed and picked her up and took her to the bathroom. He gently put her down in the bathtub. Before he could reach the faucet, the knob turned and the water sprang to life from the showerhead. He had done nothing. Fiona was sprawled underneath the water, oblivious to everything.

"Thank you," she said in a barely perceivable whisper above the sound of the running water.

"I didn't do anything," he muttered. He couldn't quite tell if she was aware that she had turned on the shower or not. But she seemed content to lie in the bath with the water pouring down on her. He left her there so he could go put on some clothes. He'd check on her in a while.

Fiona reveled in the water cooling her body. The pain wasn't gone, but it was dulled. She had thought it had subsided just as the water had started running, but no such luck. Now she felt less like she was burning and now more like her body was being ripped apart and squished simultaneously. Extremely unpleasant. Only once before had she felt pain like this. When Cordelia was born. Then, her magic hadn't been able to quell the agony of childbirth.

Her magic.

That was it. That was what was happening. She had realized the moment Cordelia was named Supreme—though she had been far away, Fiona had her ways of knowing. She'd always remembered pregnancy as a time of immense power, and she'd never felt as strong since the moment Delia was born. It was because she had conceived and birthed her successor. Her own replacement. Such a cruel trick of fate.

She'd thought it was just the pain of labor. But it wasn't. The pain was from having her magic ripped from her when the baby was born from her body.

And now…was this the pain of power renewed? Was she somehow getting her magic back? Joe had said she'd been there for a while. And she'd never used magic before. Not until the rowboat and the water in the bath.

Her eyes snapped open. She sat up abruptly, knocking her limbs on the porcelain of the tub. _The boat and the bathwater._ Joe hadn't told her anything about what magic she had used. So why did she know that?

At that moment, Joe returned to the bathroom, dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up above his elbows. He found her sitting in the bathtub, her eyes wide with shock. "What's 'a matter, babydoll?" he asked gently, leaning down to be at her eyelevel.

"The boat and the bathwater."

"What?"

"Magic. Yesterday. The boat and the bathwater."

Joe was stunned. "You remember?"

Fiona furrowed her brow, looking down at her own hands, as though the lines on her palms had the answers. "I think so." She looked back up at him, locking her eyes with his. "What does this mean?"

He was silent. They both knew he didn't have the answers.


	9. Chapter 9

"Are you still in pain, honey?" he asked gently, deciding to table the other topic for the time being.

Fiona nodded weakly. She closed her eyes and sat back. Her whole body was tense, bracing itself from the pain. She was starting to shake.

Joe stood and turned off the water. He stroked her wet hair for a moment, trying to soothe whatever agony she was facing. "Fiona, you're not going to help yourself by sitting in the bath all day. You'll catch your death."

"I thought I'd already caught it," she quipped. Despite her little joke, her voice was soft and limp, like overcooked pasta. The words spilled from her lips haphazardly; they lacked form and purpose.

He hated seeing her like this. "Come on." He awkwardly bent to pick her up. "Back to bed."

If Fiona protested—or even wanted to—she made no indication. She shivered in his arms. It was from the cold of her wet clothes and hair, but it was also an inner chill, the shaking tension of her screaming bones.

She allowed him to deposit her back in bed. He lay there with her quietly for a while. She didn't speak. She didn't want to. After some time, he asked her if she wanted anything to eat. She rejected that idea. He offered to get her a drink to dull the pain. She declined. He suggested a cigarette to calm her. And again, she refused.

"You don't have to stay here with me," she murmured.

"'Course I do. What kind of man would leave his lover when she needs him?" he replied, a hint of a smile in his tone.

"Whoever said I need you?" she grumbled in response.

Joe almost felt rebuffed, but he regained composure. "Nah, you're not getting off that easy. You're just being mean because you're hurtin'. It's okay, baby. You be as mean as you like, if it makes you feel better. I'll be right here. Just like I've always been."

Fiona shifted slightly to better look up at him. "You have always been here, haven't you?" she thought aloud curiously.

"You've been my sole purpose for over fifty years. And now for all of eternity."

For some reason, unclear even to her, Fiona turned away at his words. She curled up and tried to focus on her breathing. There was a new tension in her body, and she knew it was unrelated to her continued physical pain.

This time, Joe was upset by her. "I wish you wouldn't do that," he warned.

All it took to respond was a quick puff of air from Fiona's lips.

Joe stood up and stared at her for a moment, weighing his options. He turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Fiona didn't know how long she was left alone, shivering and moaning in pain. She kept her eyes shut most of the time, but she did notice the light grow brighter throughout the day, and dim to darkness. She didn't sleep at all. She couldn't. The pain was too intense. The stabbing pinpricks all over her skin and in her organs, as though her bones had all splintered and begun piercing everything in their way. She'd never felt like this before. Childbirth hadn't been _this_ bad. Not even the cancer, attacking her spine, leaving her weak and bald and vomiting, had been so excruciating. She had thought that was the greatest pain she'd ever endured her whole life. She'd been partially right. She wasn't experiencing this pain during her life. Her life was over. She had no power or control in any sense of the terms.

And so she remained for two more days. Alone and in agony. Joe was nowhere to be found. Not that Fiona really cared at this point. His presence had been comforting, yes, but he was so damned sensitive. He should know that her nasty attitude toward him was a product of her selfish personality and her immense pain. But then again, maybe he hadn't figured out yet that her love for him was not transformative; she would always be the same bitch she'd always been. He'd never changed that before in her life, so why should death make any difference?


	10. Chapter 10

Joe wandered the fields behind the cabin, ignoring the state of them. They'd never been the most productive crops way back when his granddaddy worked the farm, and it seemed to be mimicking his memories. It was eternally summertime here, just like he liked it.

But the farm wasn't his concern now. He made his way to the forest on the far edge of the property, off in the opposite direction from the lake. Once he felt the air grow cool in the shade of the trees, he knew he'd gone far enough.

"We had an arrangement," he said quietly. It came out like a growl.

"I am not the one changing his mind, my friend."

Joe whipped around to see Papa Legba standing in the shadows. "She is in agony! You swore she wouldn't be sick or in pain."

"No, that was your description. Our deal was for you to be with her for all eternity, exactly like you want her. I have provided her. The way she is…that is up to you."

"I did not sell my soul to you for her to lose her memory every day, and now be miserable from her pain!" Joe shouted.

Papa smiled, his red eyes glinting in the sunlight that poked through the leaves of the forest above them. "Ah yes. That reminds me, Axeman, I am in need of your services."

Joe frowned. "What do you need?"

"Take down a…problem."

"Will it take long? I don't wanna leave Fiona alone when she's in pain. I've been gone long enough already."

"I don't give a monkey's shit about how long you are gone. You will come with me now and do what I tell you!" With that, Papa blew black powder from his hand into Joes' face. The smoke cleared and they were gone.

Back in the cabin, Fiona restlessly rolled over, trying desperately to find some kind of comfortable position. She didn't want to think about Joe anymore. That Axeman had taken up too much of her attention. Right now, she wanted nothing to do with him. He wanted to leave, that was just fine. Him and every other man who had ever claimed to love her. No one ever truly stayed.

She realized that only one person had ever really been unconditional with her. Despite the torment and abuse they had heaped upon each other, the endless string of insults and nasty remarks, the accusations of uselessness, selfishness, and hatred. Only Cordelia had ever given her chance after chance after chance, never turning Fiona away when she had come.

"Delia," Fiona whispered. How she missed her daughter. Strange. She'd never missed her before, or at least never consciously realized it. But now, it was another ache in her body, a nervous churning deep in her belly.

A soft hand began to stroke her hair. "I'm here," she murmured.

Fiona opened her eyes and saw her beautiful Cordelia sitting beside her. "How?"

"You're not the only Supreme in the family now. I have my ways," Cordelia replied with a small smile.

"Why did you come?"

"You needed me." Cordelia shook her head. "You've never needed me before."

Fiona couldn't refute that. But she could clarify it. "No, but I've always wanted you."

"You dumped me with Auntie Myrtle when I was ten."

"And I was sent to the Academy when I was seven. I kept you with me much longer than I should have. But I didn't see the power in you that I was expecting. So I waited until I was sure," Fiona explained.

Cordelia scoffed, "Yeah well, I guess I have always been a disappointment."

"You were my successor. You started taking from me the moment you were conceived."

"And what would you have done if you'd known?" Cordelia could feel the lump forming in her throat, afraid of the answer to a question she had never been brave enough to ask.

Fiona curled her legs into her chest, hoping to relieve some of the searing pain in her back. "I would have taught you better."

"Would you really?"

"I'd like to think so. If I had known that my daughter would be the Supreme, I would have been able to prepare for the end. Taken it with more dignity. Maybe a little grace, even."

"Mother, you were ready to kill every single one of my girls less than a year ago," Cordelia pointed out.

"I was in pain. I was afraid. I wasn't ready to die."

"And now that you are dead…"

"I'm still in pain."

Cordelia went back to stroking her mother's hair, comforting her in a way she herself had never experienced. "You'll be alright, Fiona. You've been fine so far."

She scoffed. "I don't remember anything. I died in your arms and woke up here."

"That was a few months ago. Things are different now. And things are different for you, too."

"I'm alone." Fiona's voice was small and weak and desperate. She closed her eyes tight, trying to keep the pain inside, prevent it from leaking out any further.

Just then, a rustling came from outside. Loud footfalls on the porch.

"You're not alone. You have love."

Fiona opened her eyes. The room was blurry. A blonde shape shimmered and disappeared. "Delia?" But she was gone.


	11. Chapter 11

Joe could hear Fiona's voice as he entered the cabin, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. He immediately went to her side. "How you feelin', baby?" he asked softly. He climbed onto the bed beside her and began stroking her hair.

Fiona was still faced away from him, but she snuggled into his embrace, allowing him to comfort her. "You left me."

"I know. I had some things to take care of. I'm here now. I'm not goin' anywhere."

With what little energy she had, Fiona forced herself to roll over to him. "I've been here for days. I know it's been days. But I remember everything since that morning in the bathtub."

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad. I just want you to be happy, Fiona. That's all I want in the universe." He nuzzled her, speaking reverent words to worship his love. "Just you and me here, forever. Let me love you, let me take away your pain."

Fiona did he best to respond to him, but she was still in such pain. It drained all the energy out of her. "I can't," was all she could say.

Joe was struck by the realization that he'd never felt like this in life. He'd never had anyone who made his heart bleed—not with joy and not with yearning and not with pain. Only with his axe, splattering blood and blowing beautiful melodies, had he ever felt alive and strong. And then he had been murdered by those damn girls, imprisoning him in that house, full of rage and hate and regret. Until Fiona. His little flower, so full of fire herself. She had ignited him, the flames only growing stronger as she grew up. When he'd gotten his release from the spirit board, he'd been able to give Fiona hers too. And now, he had her all to himself, making a deal with the devil—or whoever that coked-up colored creole was—in order to have her. So why couldn't he make her happy? Why was she in pain? Legba hadn't been too generous with the details, only that Fiona was to spend eternity with him just as he wanted her. Joe knew he certainly didn't want her like this. He ached for her, a deep, metaphysical throbbing in his very soul. A soul that he had sold to be with her.

And then it clicked. "Your soul!"

"What?" Fiona was confused. He wasn't making sense. Though maybe he was and she just didn't have the stamina to follow.

"You're gettin' your magic back, isn't that right?"

"I don't know. I don't feel anything. It just all hurts too much," she replied.

Joe didn't want to overburden her when she felt this way. So he just held her close. "Okay, baby. We'll talk about it when you feel better. Everything's gonna be okay."

Fiona pulled away ever so slightly so she could look at him. Her fingers trailed his cheek, forever covered in a slight stubble. She traced his lips, so supple and talented, those lips. His bottom lip always seemed to be pouting, sticking out just past his upper lip. So tempting to suck and bite on, which Fiona did as often as she could. She smiles softly as she let her finger continue their journey over his face. His nose pointed at a slightly odd angle, a story he'd never told her. But Fiona had such happy, beautiful memories of feeling his nose pressed up against various parts of her body. Her cheeks, her neck, her breasts, between her legs. Her smile grew, and his expression matched.

His right eyebrow was always arched a little more than his left, and it was even more pronounced when he was grinning about something. From beneath those brows, his piercing eyes shone with love. Dark pupils, full of mysterious power. Dark brown surrounded by amber within a ring of deep green. His eyes always looked different to her. The light, she supposed, made them change their shade. But no matter what colors she saw, she always saw that dangerous love. From the moment they met, she could see love in his eyes. At first, she had thought it was the love of the chase, love of the thrill of winning her over. But as she'd learned who he was, she'd realized what it really was.

Fiona didn't want to admit it. It still scared her after all this time. His devotion to her and her power over him, that wasn't anything to fear. No, she was always quite proud of that. But his undying love for her was something so new.

Cordelia had been right, if I was really Delia sitting there and not just a figment of Fiona's agonized imagination. Yes. She knew that for sure now. She had love.


	12. Chapter 12

It was gone. And it returned.

Fiona sat up immediately, pushing Joe off her. "What is it. You okay?" he asked, a waver of panic in his voice.

She didn't answer. She smiled. Because the pain was gone, and she felt what had been brought back to her from it. It was there. She looked at him and saw that he matched her grin. And with a flick of her finger, he was flung hard against the opposite wall.

"Jesus!" he shouted. But when he saw that giddy smile on her face, he laughed as he picked himself up. "You got your magic back?"

"I got my magic back."

"No more pain?"

She let out a deep breath. "No more pain," she confirmed.

He clambered back onto the bed on all fours. Fiona sat up on her knees, feeling surprisingly giggly, something she had never felt comfortable with before. She took her lover's face in her hands and kissed him hard, laughing in between the caresses of his lips.

"You wanna know why?" he asked.

Fiona shook her head, her golden tresses swishing against her flushed cheeks. "Not right now, I don't."

And with that, he laid her down on the bed, reveling in this renewed ability to touch her. Seeing her in pain like that, being unable to ease her in any way, had brought him right back to those years where he had to watch her grow into the woman he fell in love with, unable to do much more than just watch. He had been given new life to ease her pain and ease her into death. Death was supposed to be their repose. He sold his soul so that he could live out his every fantasy with the woman he loved so desperately. And love her he would.

Fiona felt like she was on fire. But not like she had earlier, burning in agony. No, this was a different fire altogether. This fire was familiar, exciting and comforting all at once. Every inch of her body that he touched ignited a spark. Joe had once told her that he and he alone had seen the fire in her belly as he watched her grow into womanhood. That had been her ambition, her drive to achieve her every whim of power and control. But this was different. This was a fire that burned only for him. No other man had ever affected her this way.

Joe could taste her passion. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer to her. Her thighs tightened around his ears, her soft skin over powerful muscles motivating him to push her over the edge. She was close, he knew. "Let it go, baby," he whispered, before plunging his tongue back into her, sucking on her until she bucked and trembled in ecstasy.

He sat up to reposition himself. All his focus was on her. He didn't hear the slight hiss and crackle of the wooden floor or feel the gust of air that ignited the room.

Fiona regained the control over her body to watch him disrobe and release himself from his trousers. She glanced at the flames growing around them but returned her attention to his full erection, poised to enter her. She inhaled sharply as she took in the full length and girth of him, feeling him fill her completely. Her hands clawed at the bedsheets, uncontrollably clenching into tight fists. She arched her back and lifted her hips to give him a better angle. He began to move within her and she let out a deep groan. Their eyes locked as they began to move in rhythm together.

In the midst of their love-making, Joe felt the thick sting of smoke tickle his nose. His concentration lapsed and he missed a beat, his eyes darting around for the source of the scent. Fiona grabbed his face and recaptured his focus. "Don't stop," she begged. He acquiesced, bringing them both to a sweaty release.

Once he collapsed, fully exhausted and sated, his mind wandered back to the smell of smoke. It was back. It took all his effort to sit up and look around the room.

Everything was engulfed in flame.

The previously ignored roar and crackle of the fire came to Joe's ears. He scrambled up, but found Fiona lying on her back, staring up at the burning canopy above them. She wasn't worried. She wasn't afraid.

Joe couldn't get his heart to stop racing, despite how he told himself it was all Fiona's doing and there was nothing to fret about. "Fiona?"

"You see what you do to me?" she teased. She reached her hand out to him, lazily stroking the side of his leg.

"Everything under control?" he asked, trying not to come across nervous.

"Mmm," she hummed. "I suppose there had to be something about this place that had to truly feel like hell, right?"

He took one of her hands in his and kissed it softly. "I don't feel like I'm in hell."

She turned to look at him and smiled. "Neither do I." And with a wave of her other hand, the flames were gone. Erased as though they'd never burned blazes through the room. Everything was quiet once more, the lovers lying peacefully in bed together.


	13. Chapter 13

"Okay, mister. You seem to be the one with all the answers, you wanna tell me what happened?" she asked, sitting up slightly. It was time for her to really know what was going on.

Joe took his time, tracing invisible patterns on her exposed thigh. "Well, I think it starts with why we're here."

Fiona shook her head. "I'm in hell. You told me that before."

"Nah, that was me teasing you. I'd told you the truth for the first few days, and you never seemed to like it. I just didn't want to fight with you every day, all the time, the same fight for all eternity. That wasn't what I bargained for."

"What you bargained for?"

"Well, you're the one who gave me the idea. You tried to sell your soul."

"And Papa Legba told me I had nothing to sell," she replied quietly. She'd made jokes, but she was ashamed of herself. She hadn't realized she'd really been _that_ bad. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she'd been so heinous as to waste and ruin and deplete her very soul.

"I still think that was bum luck. Didn't really end too well for me, what with all your daughter's little witches hacking me up with my own axe after you put it in my head that I chopped you down and fed your body to the gators," Joe recalled bitterly.

Fiona knew she was supposed to feel badly about that but she couldn't seem to find that emotion within her. "Mhmm," was all she could reply.

"But as I lay bleeding there, I was confronted with the vision of that voodoo man, and with my dying breath, I sold my soul to him."

"I didn't have a soul, but you still did? How the hell is that possible?" Fiona wondered aloud.

"I don't know, but I did. And I got to make a deal. I sold my soul, so I have to do his bidding whenever he asks. That's where I was for the last few days. I didn't wanna go while you weren't feeling well, but I didn't have a choice," he explained.

She nodded. She understood. But she still wasn't sure what this had to do with Fiona getting her magic back. "So what did you get in return in this deal of yours?"

He smiled at her under those mischievous brows. "You."

Fiona's eyes widened. "Me?"

"You," he replied, kissing her hand.

"So that's why I'm here?"

"Yes."

She processed the reality of a man literally trading his soul to be with her. His love for her was even deeper than she thought. Not only had no one ever loved her like that before, but she had never even imagined that anyone _could_ love her like that. She didn't know that kind of love existed anywhere, let alone for her. But another thought wrestled its way to the forefront. "But what does that have to do with me getting my magic back? Why didn't I have it at first, and why did I go through all that pain to get it back?"

"I have my suspicions about that, but first I want you to tell me something."

She tilted her head to the head to the side, waiting for his query. She'd answer him the best she could. He deserved that much.

"What happened to that last husband of yours?"

Whatever Fiona had expected, that wasn't it. But she supposed it was time to come clean about that. "Gerritt Vandenheuvel was a Dutch banker living in New York. And of any man I'd ever been with, he was the best suited for me. He was much older and he left me alone most of the time. He let me do whatever I wanted with his money. He gave me beautiful gifts and doted on me without being suffocating. He was very sweet to Cordelia during the times she was with us. She liked him and he helped her like me a little, too." Fiona smiled softly at the memory, pausing to remember Gerritt's kind blue eyes and the perfectly trimmed gray mustache. She shook herself slightly and swallowed hard in order to continue. "We got in a terrible fight one night. I was planning on going to Los Angeles because the plastic surgeons were better there, and at almost fifty years old, I needed a little freshening up. He didn't want me to get the surgery, and if I was set on it, he didn't want me to be so far away when he couldn't come with me. This was about seven years into our marriage. Just a few weeks shy of our seventh anniversary. Yes, that's right. That's why he was so upset. He didn't want us to be apart for our anniversary. It was one of the few things he ever insisted on with me. And…" She trailed off. She didn't like thinking about what happened next.

"And what?" Joe prompted.

"And I lost my temper—shocking, I know—and I was losing control of my magic a bit and the next thing I knew, his carotid artery was severed with one of the broken porcelain china I'd been throwing across the room."

"You said it was a robbery."

"That's what I had the police believe. I spit in their water glasses and gave them the evidence they needed to believe that I'd come home and found the house in disarray and my husband bleeding from his sliced neck."

"It was just an accident."

Fiona nodded, her eyes fixed on her own hands in her lap. She couldn't look at him right now. "I'm sure I'd have gotten rid of him eventually, but he hadn't given me a real reason to do away with him yet. I actually sort of liked being married to him. It was no great love story, but our lives fit together nicely. And he had all that money for me to use, and he made more every day. But he was the only husband whose name I took. And I kept it. Out of guilt, I suppose."

"You didn't really love him?" Joe asked, a tone of worried hope in his voice.

"No, of course not."

That answer comforted him. But raised another question. "Then why are you so upset by his death?"

Fiona did turn to make eye contact this time. "Because I lost control. Completely. I killed a man completely by accident. That lack of control is dangerous, and as the Supreme, I shouldn't have those problems. It's…shameful," she admitted.

"It's all over now, baby. You can lose control all you want with me. In fact, I prefer it," he told her with a smirk. "What could happen? You think you'll kill me again? I've already died twice. I'm through with that now." He took her hands in his and pressed kisses to her fingertips. "You can't do any lasting damage on me."

She bristled at the assumption that she was afraid she'd hurt him, as though that were her main concern, that she'd ever put his wellbeing above anything else. But she wouldn't focus on that now. "So I've told you what you wanted to know. Will you tell me why I had to go through that hell to get my magic back, since it seems you're in charge around here. All I am is a reward, a bargaining chip in your little voodoo deal," she said acerbically.

"You're everything here, Fiona. Everything is for you," he assured her.

"Oh really? The pinewood cabin and the constant stink of catfish is for me, is it?" she spat. Her mild annoyance had blossomed into more. Fiona got out of bed and violently opened the wardrobe to put some clothes on. She didn't want to be nude and vulnerable with him right now. She'd been vulnerable enough. And now that she had her magic and her strength, she was disgusted at her weakened self.

Joe watched her get dressed, wondering whether it was worth it to refute her accusations. In time, she would understand. She'd have to understand. He'd make her understand.


	14. Chapter 14

Before Joe could say anything else, a booming laugh came from the kitchen. Joe pulled his pants back on and followed Fiona, who had just slipped into fancy shoes, toward the visitor.

"Somethings never change, eh mambo?"

Joe snarled, "What are you doing here?"

Papa Legba stood from his seat at the kitchen table. Through some kind of voodoo trickery, he raised himself to an enormous height of over seven feet, towering above them. "I come here to make a deal."

"We already have a deal," Joe replied. "And part of that deal is you stay away. Unless you summon me, you stay outta our lives."

"Deaths," Fiona corrected.

"Whatever it is. He's not a part of this!"

She could see that he was getting dangerously upset. To the point that he might do something stupid. Fiona subtly pursed her lips and blew a stream of air toward him. As soon as the gust made contact with his cheek, he fell silent. He stood calm and motionless, docile and numb.

Papa started laughing again. "You are good. I like how you work."

Fiona frowned at him. She felt threatened by his presence and the way Joe had reacted to him. She was uneasy with him there. Perhaps because the only times she'd ever interacted with Papa Legba had been when she'd tried make a deal with him, and then again after she and Marie Laveau had drowned Nan in the tub. The first time she'd been high on cocaine. The second time she'd been high on the adrenaline of murder. And now she was vulnerable. The high of having her magic back had been sobered by his unexpected and unexplained entry into their home.

She balked at her own thoughts, referring to the cabin as _their_ home. Fiona smiled to herself, imagining how pleased Joe would be if he knew that.

Again, she found herself surprised at her own reactions. These were such strange, foreign, unnecessary feelings for her.

When she returned her attention to Papa Legba, he was grinning at her. "You can see it now, yes? The change in you. It is very strong," he said, his velvety voice dripping with that French Creole accent of his.

"What do you mean?" she asked, more out of feigned ignorance and curiosity of his response than anything else.

He smiled, showing his gold teeth. "You have a soul." He paused before continuing, "You know, it is very rare for a person to lose their soul without trading it away. It is even more rare for a person to gain their soul back. It takes a very strong change for that to happen. You are very lucky."

"I've always been quite remarkable," Fiona replied. She felt like her old self now. Aloof and powerful. She walked past the voodoo deity and poured herself a drink. "I'd offer you something, but I don't know what the hell we've got here."

Papa smirked. "Why don't you wake up your Axeman now? If he gets angry, we can subdue him again."

"Why do you want him around?" she asked, taking a sip of bourbon.

"I don't like him staring at me like that. If I get uneasy, I might disembowel him just to hear a noise from him. And I know you don't want to clean up the mess."

Fiona shrugged, not letting her outward appearance betray the displeasure she felt at threats toward the man standing slightly slack-jawed on the other side of the room. She snapped her fingers, and he came-to.

"What the hell was that?!" he asked her with a tone of distinct displeasure.

"You were getting ready to do something stupid," she replied simply.

Papa Legba interrupted their sniping. "You must also be curious why she has her soul back."

"With her magic came her soul?" Joe guessed.

Papa shook his head. "With her soul came her magic. She had power as the Supreme. It is the right as Queen of the Witches. But magic lives in the soul. When she lost hers, her magic was only a matter of right, not a part of her," he explained. "But now, in death, as strange as it may seem, she has regained her soul. And with that has come her magic as it has always existed as a part of her being."

"You know, _she_ is right here," Fiona interjected dangerously.

With a devilish glint in his red eyes, Papa turned to her. "Yes, I know. And now that you have your soul back, I'd like to offer you the deal you once offered me. In exchange for your soul and your promise to do my bidding, I will bring you back to life and grant you the youth and immortality you longed for."

"You can't do that! I sold _my_ soul to keep her here with me! You can't take her away now!" Joe protested.

Papa scoffed. "What do I need with a simple axe murderer when I can have the soul of the most powerful witch of all time?"

"Hang on a minute. How did she even get her soul back?" Joe asked, still disregarding Fiona's presence completely.

If she weren't as interested in the answer as he was, she would have done something very unpleasant to him as payback for being ignored like this.

"Isn't it obvious?" Papa asked rhetorically. "Love is a very powerful magic, one not even I can control. Your love for her saved your soul, Axeman. And it has saved her, too. Strange as it might seem to us all, she loves you. Enough that it has restored her soul, even after death." He nodded, regarding Fiona carefully. "Very powerful magic," he repeated softly.

Fiona's eyes went wide at the realization. She turned and locked eyes with Joe. Somehow, beyond belief or reason, she'd fallen in love for the first time. With a man who loved her more than she ever thought could be possible. And it had changed her, utterly and completely. She was still a miserable bitch, but now she was one with a soul. All because she had inexplicably fallen in love with him. His love for her had been intoxicating since the first day. So strong that it had scared her initially. But it really had changed her. She'd never expected that. She'd never even contemplated that it was a possibility. He loved her so much that she'd been swept up into it, somehow loving him as well. She had never imagined that she had the ability to love like that.

Joe stared at Fiona, fear gripping his heart. He had always suspected that she loved him. But he honestly didn't think she was capable of it. Not consciously, anyway. He never expected her to be aware of her love for him. And he never cared for her to love him back. He loved her enough for the both of the. All he had ever wanted was for her to be happy and to get everything she wanted. He had wanted to be the one to give her those things, but even without him, he wanted the world for her. And now, it seemed, he was indirectly going to be responsible for letting her get exactly what she'd always wanted.

"So? Do we have a deal?"

Fiona broke eye contact with Joe to turn back to Papa, who was awaiting her answer. Her newly restored soul in exchange for everlasting youth and beauty and power in the mortal world. It was everything she'd worked for her entire life. The one goal out of her reach while she'd been alive. And now it was being handed to her on a silver platter.


	15. Chapter 15

"I don't like how you do business, voodoo man." Fiona walked past him and leaned back against the kitchen counter. "Too many loopholes."

"Ah yes, how did you put it once? You want 'terms defined,'" Papa Legba replied with a knowing smile. "Youth and immortality. No aging, no sickness, no injury. No death whatsoever."

She nodded, satisfied with that response. "And what about him?" she asked, nodding her head toward the Axeman, standing there with a combination of fear and rage swirling his features.

"He is dead. He will stay dead. As though I had never made a deal with him to begin with," Papa informed them.

"And what about when I return to the mortal world? Will I regain the Supremacy?"

He shrugged. "I do not interfere with the politics of witches."

"Cordelia will know?"

"Perhaps."

Fiona didn't like that answer at all. If she was going to do this, she was going to know what she was getting. For all her frustration, she knew she had a good thing going there with Joe. It would be a shame to give up something good for the mere possibility of something even better. But it didn't seem like she'd have any way of knowing one way or the other. Until she got an idea. "One day."

Papa looked up from where he had snorted his cocaine. "One day of what?"

Fiona smirked, feeling rather proud of how clever she was being. "You give me a trial period. One day to go see how things work, decide if I like it."

"I don't do no trail period. You agree to the deal or you do not." His red eyes were flashing with terrifying intensity, his voice barely concealing his fury.

But she just shook her head. "You came to me. You want this. You want what I can do. And yes, I do want what you're offering me, but I'm going to make sure it's all it should be before I go trading away my fresh, new soul."

Papa wasn't happy about this, but she was right. He wanted her power. He'd agree to her terms. "Okay, you got a deal. We try for one day." And without another word, he threw a handful of red powder at Fiona. In a loud puff of smoke, she was gone. Papa turned to Joe. "You can stay here for now. If she comes back, she comes back. If she takes my deal, like we know she will, this will all be gone. And so will you."

Joe wasn't frozen by any magic, but he couldn't move nevertheless. He saw his Fiona disappear and Papa Legba disappear right after. It took him a few minutes before he could process what had just happened. She was gone. And she wasn't coming back. No matter what the voodoo man said, they all knew Fiona would take the deal. It was everything she had always wanted. She had no need for him anymore. Joe went to the bedroom to retrieve his saxophone. He figured he'd get the chance to play for a little while, since it would be his last opportunity.

Fiona found herself in a New Orleans graveyard, the one nearby Miss Robichaux's. She turned to see an enormous mausoleum in gleaming white travertine. The black marble at the doorway was carved and inlayed with gold to read GOODE. Her final resting place. An interesting place to be reborn.

And so it was time to explore. With the most minimal effort, Fiona transported herself to the Academy. She smiled as the wrought iron gates appeared before her. Nice to see that her transmutation skills had been regained. She sighed contentedly, feeling the power coursing through her veins.

"What are you doing here?"

Fiona turned to see Cordelia standing behind her. She was about to respond but saw that Delia was wearing the necklace Fiona had given her shortly before her death. The image of seeing her daughter wearing the one glorious piece of jewelry that Fiona had received from her own mother struck her with a very strange feeling. It was pride, but it was also more. She felt warm inside. Warm and full of something bright.

"Mother?"

Delia's voice brought her back to reality. "I'm visiting," Fiona replied simply. She walked forward, the gates opening on their own volition. It was nice to be back.

"How is this possible!?" Cordelia asked, following her mother close behind.

Fiona ignored her. She didn't want to waste time with explanations. She only had one day.

To her surprise, Miss Robichaux's was bustling inside its ancient walls. There must have been a dozen girls in the downstairs area alone. Each young and beautiful with power sparking from their very beings.

One of the girls, barely more than a child, noticed Fiona enter. Her dark eyes went wide and her lips formed a perfect O as she pointed a dark, trembling finger at the woman she'd seen so many times in that beautiful portrait on the wall.

"Eve, go upstairs please. Take the others up with you. Everyone will be confined to their rooms until further notice," Cordelia instructed.

The little girl waved her hand and, all of a sudden, the girls all formed a perfect straight line, marching upstairs single-file. Fiona was impressed, but that wasn't what she wanted. She made a slight nod, breaking the little girl's concilium spell.

Cordelia glared as she saw all the girls break away from each other and return to their recreation. She waved her hand and got them all back in their formation.

Fiona rolled her eyes and continued through the house to the kitchen. "I'm starving. I hope you've got something other than catfish," she commented.

"Mother, what are you doing here!?"

Fiona paused and regarded her daughter for a moment. "Did you come visit me recently?"

"What are you talking about?"

It took a little more intense focus, but Fiona was able to break the barriers into Cordelia's mind. Before she could take a look around, however, Cordelia pushed her out.

Fiona nodded with the faintest of smiles. "I see you've finally got some real power. Even against me."

"Mother, I will not ask you again," Cordelia threatened.

"I see you've filled the place up," Fiona observed, ignoring her daughter's continued questions. "No fear of enemies anymore, it seems. Though I suppose once I was gone, there weren't many of our enemies left. And you've never been one to upset the others playing in the sandbox."

Cordelia was practically shaking with her violent combination of fear, confusion, and utter frustration.

Fiona could see how upset she was getting, and she laughed. "Oh, Delia, calm down. I'm not here to take anything from you. You know teaching never struck any interest in me. And you have enough power to retain the Supremacy, even if I did want to take it from you."

"Don't you?" Delia replied bitterly.

"Not at the moment, no. I haven't decided if I'm staying or not."

"Staying?"

"I have one day to see how I like being immortally young and powerful."

Seeing that she wouldn't get real answers out of her mother, Cordelia figured she'd let Fiona just talk in the hopes that she could glean some information. "Immortal? Forever?"

"Of course."

Cordelia shrugged. "Forever is a long time. Knowing you, Fiona, you'd get bored."

Fiona laughed. She'd have to remember this weak attempt at manipulation to tell Joe later. He'd appreciate it.

As she turned, Fiona caught a glance of her reflection in the shiny metal of the redesigned kitchen. The image was slightly distorted, but Fiona saw her newly reborn self for the first time. And for the first time, she felt like she saw herself through Joe's eyes. He always told her how beautiful and sexy he found her. Fiona had always thought he was just holding onto the memory of her younger days, flattering her aged body to get her in the mood. But now she saw it. There was something about that woman looking back at her. She had everything in the universe at her fingertips, ready to bend to her will. She radiated power. Papa sure had done a good job bringing her back to life.

"So what do you want to do with your one day?" Cordelia asked, blatantly trying to get information now.

"I figured I'd try some things out. See if this is better than what I've got waiting for you."

"And what do you have waiting for you?"

Fiona's lips curled into a smile. "A wonderful man who only wants me to be a part of his monotonous existence."

"You never were one for monotony," Cordelia replied bitterly.

"You can hate me all you want, but I gave you a wonderful life," Fiona said, pointing her finger at her daughter for emphasis.

Delia just rolled her eyes.

Fiona glanced around and realized something was missing. "Where's that old hag, Myrtle Snow? I figured she'd be fawning all over her little bird growing up to be the Supreme."

Cordelia cast her gaze downward. "Burned at the stake."

Fiona laughed loudly. "Again? Oh that is rich. Let me guess, it was her idea. And she did it in the tackiest, most nouveau riche way imaginable."

Though she did not answer, Cordelia knew her mother would take the lack of response as confirmation of her assumptions. And though the loss of Myrtle still haunted and saddened her, hearing Fiona put it in those accurate terms almost made Cordelia want to laugh.

"You can't stay here, mother. You've attempted murder on more witches than I can count. You'd need to burn, too."

Fiona shrugged. "Immortal," she said with a simple smile.

"Even so. You are not a good influence on the girls. You have to go."

"So I'll go."

"And what will you do for money? Where will you go? What will you do?"

With a furrowed brow, Fiona replied, "Delia, your power has given you strength, which I admire. But that practical sensibility of yours is just obnoxious. I'd hoped you'd grow out of that." Despite her snide response, Fiona was taken aback by Cordelia's words. She was right. Where would she go after leaving New Orleans? What could she do with the identity of a dead woman and not a penny to her name? Even with her prodigious magical skill, Fiona needed at least some aspect of this new life rooted in reality in order for her to be able to make any use of anything.

"How are you here?" Cordelia asked in a forceful whisper, leaning forward over crossed arms. She had no more patience for Fiona's coyness.

"I made a deal with Papa Legba."

"How is that possible? You have no soul."

"It seems I got it back during my death."

Her eyes went wide. "It was him, wasn't it? You actually fell in love with him!" Fiona didn't need to respond for Delia to know she was right. "Love is very powerful magic."

Fiona just scoffed. "Of course."

Cordelia just looked at her with disbelief. "I knew you had love because I felt it radiate off him whenever I was near. And that wasn't nothing. But I didn't imagine that you actually loved him too. Jesus, you couldn't love Gerritt, but you can fall in love with an axe murderer? That figures."

"So you were there with me."

Cordelia knew she'd said too much. "You needed me."

"How did you know?"

"Love is very powerful magic," she said once again. "I hated you so much, Mother, because I loved you so much. And that didn't die when you did."

Fiona just stared at her daughter, feeling the strangest urge to hug her.

Cordelia laughed softly, reading Fiona's thoughts. "It's okay. I know it doesn't feel natural to you." She walked forward and put her arms around her mother.

It was in that simple, unusual embrace that Fiona realized something. She had been changed. This new soul of hers had changed her. Love had changed her. Her heart had grown, letting more love in. And it was all because of Joe. He'd loved her when no one else had or even could. And if she left him, if she abandoned that love, what would happen? She'd be beholden to the voodoo man, a slave to his commands. She could be alive and young and beautiful and powerful, but she would never again be free.

"You wouldn't be here if it weren't for him," Cordelia whispered. "You can't leave him."

"I don't want to," Fiona replied, realizing that truth aloud for the first time. "Youth and beauty and power are nothing if I'm alone again."

With one last squeeze, Cordelia told her, "It's time to go, Fiona."

They broke apart, each with a soft smile on their faces. "You can send me back?" Fiona asked in slight disbelief.

"I'm the Supreme," Delia replied.

Fiona nodded. "Yes, you are. And you're incredible."

Tears formed and quickly fell from Cordelia's eyes as she whispered goodbye to her mother for the last time, sending her away in a burst of white light.

When Fiona blinked away the brightness, she found herself on the porch of the cabin, back home where she belonged. She grinned, her heart beating in excited anticipation as she opened the door. She was immediately greeted by a gorgeous jazz melody on the saxophone.

Joe heard the sound of high heels on the pine floor, but knew it was just his imagination. Wishful thinking. But as the sound came closer, he looked up and saw her look at him with that golden smile. He immediately stopped playing. "What are you doing here?"

"I've made up my mind," she told him, walking toward him slowly.

He quickly put his instrument aside, trying to stamp down his desperate hope, focusing instead on mere confusion. "It hasn't been a whole day yet. Has it?"

She shook her head. "I didn't need a whole day."

"So…you're here to say goodbye?"

Fiona laughed softly, gently stroking his cheek. "Now why would I ever do that?"

"But you…"

She cut him off with a searing kiss. When she pulled away, she told him, "I spoke to my daughter. And she helped me see that I would have nothing if it weren't for your love. And why would I ever give that up? Especially since I love you, too."

Joe honestly never thought he'd hear those words. As much as he wanted them, he'd never expected them to come from her beautiful lips. He felt like he was about to float off the ground, he was so happy. He beamed at her. "Say it again."

She threw her head back and laughed. "I love you."

He pulled her in close and kissed her deeply, not letting her pull away until they couldn't breathe anymore. "I love you, baby. More than anything. Even you are a miserable goddamn bitch," he teased breathlessly.

Fiona was about to say something in response but she suddenly went rigid.

"What is it?"

She had felt his presence immediately, and she now recognized it as unwelcome. She turned to find Papa Legba lurking in the doorway. Before he could utter a single word, she whipped her hand and sent him flying out.

"How the hell did you do that?" Joe asked in amazement.

"He has nothing I want. He has no power over me," Fiona replied confidently. She knew he'd return to collect Joe, per their deal, and he'd likely try to strike a deal with her again. But Fiona now knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had no need for voodoo bargains anymore. She would protect her precious soul from his clutches.

As Joe kissed her again, the room burst into flames. He noticed it immediately this time. "I thought you said this wasn't hell," he said tentatively.

"No. Not hell. But fire is power. And I've recently learned that love is the root of power. So here we are," she told him.

Joe figured he'd take her word for it. If he had to spend is eternity in flames, he was comforted knowing that they were caused by Fiona and the power of her love.

The sun set behind the hills, drenching the farm in a dark haze. The small cabin gave the only light for miles on that moonless night. All was quiet. Occasionally a catfish would splash near the surface of the lake, or a frog would croak mournfully. Then, the seductive notes from a saxophone dripped through the night. Bourbon hit the bottom of a glass, and a match ignited a cigarette. And so began their eternity.


End file.
